


Forcing Up A Black Sunrise

by krityan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Cults, Gen, Hospitalization, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-12-31 13:18:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krityan/pseuds/krityan
Summary: Will update tags with subsequent chapters.Shortly after surviving a near-fatal car accident, Noctis goes missing-- leaving behind nothing but a series of letters he'd been writing in the margins of an old book of fairy tales.Following a few loose leads, Prompto and Gladio, with Ignis' support, set out to rescue him from kidnappers. It isn't nearly the cut and dry operation they were expecting.





	1. Hope in Disaster

The nurse’s laugh was soft, threading through Noctis’ consciousness like sunlight. Everything felt so impermanent here, drifting in and out with vague awareness of the world around him. 

“-tis.” A soft hand slid in around his, fingers tangling together, brings his attention back to reality before the sound of his name does, “Noctis, how are you feeling today?” She let her other hand rest gently on top of their clasped fingers, and smiled down at him expectantly.

“Oh, Luna.” His eyes were heavy. He let them open briefly, enough to outline her face. Enough to inventory that, yes, this was the same hospital room. Bed, monitor, curtain, curtain, window, door. His head lolled back to the side, earning another one of those laughs. They reminded him of bells ringing, and birds.

“Honestly, Noctis, are you going to sleep through all your visitors today?” Luna tugged at his hand, urged his attention forward again. “Come on now, let’s get you sitting up.” It always surprised Noctis how steady her hands were, they always seemed stronger than his own. He grumbled in response to her efforts anyway, let her guide him forward until he was upright, his head swimming again from the blood rush. 

“It’s not like anyone visits anyway.” Part of him regretted complaining so much, a tsk from his own mind trying to remind him of manners. He tried to recall the last time someone had actually come into the room. A week ago, maybe? He tried to picture Ignis’ face, it had to have been him. 5 days ago. They hadn’t spoken, he’d pretended to be asleep while Ignis looked sad. “Why shouldn’t I sleep?”

“Mm.” There was enough amusement laced through her acknowledgment that Noctis had anticipated the smile Luna flashed when she turned around from checking his IV lines and writing her notes. The wrinkles around her eyes before she’d say his name in her teasing tone of voice were charming, he never knew why he noticed them when other faces would blur quickly in his memory. “Your father was here just yesterday, and that blonde friend of yours brought you these flowers just today. Look, you made him take a picture of you holding them.” He followed the stretch of her arm as she collected his phone off a table across from his bed, a thick arrangement of hydrangeas and white roses there. Noctis closed his eyes tried to remember before she could press the phone into his hand. He was too late though, felt the bed shift as Luna sat down next to him, watched over his shoulder as he unlocked the screen and pulled up the camera.

He really looked like shit, didn’t he. He scrolled through the photos, letting emotion churn in his stomach without assigning names or feelings to them. Pressed in close with Prompto, his arm blocking out half the frame. Two black eyes, a thick line of stitches underneath his jaw. Laughing, his arms filled with flowers. Thick gauze taped to the back of his hand, tubes trailing out from underneath and out of frame. Prompto posing with a rose clenched between his teeth. Noctis in the background, staring at nothing in particular in some other direction. 

Luna idly brushed a hand through Noctis’ hair, “Will he be the one picking you up tomorrow?” Her voice was quiet and clear all at once, like it existed as part of the air. Noctis could listen to it forever. Tomorrow? He blinked, realized his phone screen had turned off as he’d stared at it so he turned to look at Luna instead. The question hung in her eyes a moment longer, “That bodyguard of yours seemed to think so, but we’ll ask your father when he visits, alright?”

Noctis nodded, let the links come together, “Ah, we won’t finish that book. Sorry.” He was finally being discharged, two weeks after his surgery. Two weeks, three days after the accident then. “Thanks. For sharing it with me.” He wasn’t sure when or why Luna had begun reading to him, but her quiet stories each afternoon were soothing. Like they cleaned the nightmares from his mind, her voice echoing across his dreams instead.

“Oh!” Luna smiled, a more peaceful affection settling across her features. “Why not take it with you? I’ll write my address inside, you can send it back whenever you’ve finished.” 

Noctis looked back at the black screen of his phone, nodded his approval of the plan, “There’s still time today, though, right?”

The bell-peals of her laughter again. Noctis was sure he could see them sparkle in the sunlight if he squinted just right. “Of course, I’ll always make time for you, Noctis.”

— 

It was strange, suddenly being outside again. The low ache that seemed to course through his entire body wasn’t helping. 

“Gladio’s got all your stuff down in the car already, you ready to get out of this wheelchair, buddy?” 

“Tired of wheeling me around already, huh?” Noctis twisted around, grinning up at Prompto, earning himself a playful punch to the shoulder. His mind was still a little foggy, but the smell of the hospital was already fading off his skin. It felt good, recognizing people again. “When did it start raining?”

“Been raining all week, man.” Prompto eased an arm around Noctis, pulled him to his feet, “You were pretty out of it, huh?” He let his arm slide down to Noctis’ waist, and rested his head on his shoulder, “Really missed you, worried we were gonna lose you at first.”

They waited in silence for Gladio.

—

“Think you’re gonna go back to work?” Prompto leaned down on the railing, let his eyes wander out across the horizon to follow Noctis’ aimless stare, “Pretty sure your dad’ll start pestering you about it soon. Iggy’s already dropping hints.”

Noctis groaned. It had always been expected that he’d take over the church after his father, the fourteenth generation to dedicate themselves in the name and service of Eos. An inspiration of piousness for every citizen of Lucis. “Think I’d rather get hit by another car.” 

Prompto nodded, let a nervous laugh cut across the pause in their conversation, “He was worried about you too, ya know?” He watched Noctis closely, trying to gauge the reaction. Noctis stared back at him, as though his answer was hidden somewhere in Prompto’s face. 

He hated putting Noct on the spot, but sometimes it was worth it just for these moments, something about holding Noctis’ gaze still gave Prompto chills.

“I know.” The answer sounded dismissive, but rolled heavy off Noctis’ tongue, each syllable carefully crafted with all the different meanings Noctis needed. “I’ll go see him. Tomorrow? Okay?”


	2. Beyond Sight

_Noctis wasn’t sure when he’d begun dreaming about dogs._   
_Tonight he sat, stuck in silence as Prompto walked away, following a white dog into a long dark hallway. Down a flight of stairs. Noctis opened his mouth, tried to say anything so Prompto would look over his shoulder and find him, but he couldn’t move, he didn’t exist. Another dog, black this time (like it existed as the shadow of the first) rested its head on Noctis’ lap. It had a letter for him. He slid the envelope from between the dog’s teeth, held it in his hand for a moment. Had there always been a window here? He watched past white, billowing curtains as an ocean rolled out to the horizon, unfolding like the opening pages of a book._

—

Prompto sighed, “Coming! Sorry!” He hadn’t expected anyone to stop by, hadn’t even bothered with his contact lenses. Just his comfiest sweater and a pair of sweatpants before he holed himself up in his office with a cup of coffee and a pair of headphones. He honestly had no idea how long someone had been knocking on the door. “Okay, let me just. Get the lock. There.” He finally swung the door open, “Oh, Ignis, did you need something?” He shifted his weight back and forth, nervously. Ignis’ face was pinched, the sour sort of expression he usually reserved for delivering some particularly pointed lecture at Noctis’ expense.

“I was hoping to speak to Noct.” It was almost impressive, watching Ignis move through a space. Prompto stepped to the side as he saw himself in, coat draped over one arm, briefcase left in the corner. There was a particular confidence surrounding him that Prompto could never completely decipher, an etiquette that was always perfectly obeyed. “Honestly, I’m very disappointed in him. Standing up Regis for their meeting today was immature and a waste of time for everyone involved. If he honestly has no intention of taking his life back I am more then willing to help him get whatever he needs in order but there’s no need to be petty.” Prompto stood dumbfounded in the entry way. Ignis stopped, cleaned his glasses as he collected himself, “Please, if you could just fetch Noct for me. Sorry for bothering you.”

“He didn’t see Regis today?” Prompto’s voice was quiet, his eyes trailed along as though tracing some visible thread of time, “He isn’t with you?” He bit his lip, jerking his head up to look Ignis in the eye, the sudden movement making his glasses slide down. “But that can’t be right, he. He left to meet Gladio this morning. He’s supposed to be with you.” He tries to keep the bite of accusation out of his voice, but it always had a way of creeping through when panic started to set in.

Ignis’ voice dropped, a deliberate and even tone, as practiced as anything else he did, “We’ve both tried to contact him with no response. You’re certain?” He left the question relatively open. It didn’t matter what Prompto was or wasn’t certain of, reality had already set in, made its own decisions.

Prompto’s head swam, he let himself sink to the ground— it felt like the floor was going to fall out from underneath him. There were reasons Noctis had a bodyguard in the first place. They should have been more careful, it was so easy to fall into the rhythms of a normal life. The idea of Noctis in pain again brought bile rising into Prompto’s throat. The rational part of his mind argued back, but the echo of his pulse pounding behind his ears drowned out the reasoning. He’d only just gotten Noctis back. His scars had barely faded, even though the limp in his step had started to become something familiar and fond.

He’d smiled, he’d been smiling. Gave a joking salute as he left, promised he’d try to stay awake through the meetings. No, that wasn’t today that was before, that was the last time. He looked up at Ignis, already on his phone, recounting in the closest thing that passed for frantic in the man’s emotional range. “No,” it seemed fine, “he has no idea.” He was offering platitudes to Prompto, unspoken but hidden in concerned eyes and a strain to his voice that was doing its best to reassure.

The next few hours blurred. Prompto barely remembered leaving the apartment, as he came to the numb realization he was in the backseat of Ignis’ car, his shoulder pushed against an old suitcase. “You’ll be staying with Monica if we cannot resolve the situation. It’s our responsibility to ensure your safety.” Prompto nodded along with the words, absorbing the sounds and ignoring the meaning, “Gladio has already reviewed the security footage from your building. We’ll need you to see if you can identify anyone in the footage.”

“So he just. Left?” Prompto’s mouth was dry, his face felt almost swollen. He’d probably been crying. It would make sense.

“There was a car waiting when he left the building. Noctis appears to speak with someone inside for a few moments, and eventually he enters the vehicle and it leaves. That’s all we have at the moment.”

“Right.” Prompto stared at the window, they were circling through a parking garage. He watched the thick concrete pillars pass by slowly, traced over the brightly-painted numbers in his mind just to concentrate on something. “Should I leave my stuff in the car?”

—

The Citadel was an imposing building. The public face was a sweeping monument to the Astrals, all marble statues and burning lights intended to make you feel as small as possible beneath their divinity. It never particularly bothered Prompto. The administrative offices underneath the main building, on the other hand, always felt like they would crush him. He felt naked here without Noctis. Ignis was swept away from him immediately, met by two members of Regis’ private guard as they stepped out of the elevator.

“Crowe, Libertus.” Ignis put a hand on Prompto’s shoulder, letting his greeting push introductions out of the way, “My apologies for keeping Mr. Caelum waiting.”

The woman looked awkward at the formality, her whole posture taunt and impatient, half turned to leave already. The man shrugged and grunted dismissively. “It’s not like you could’ve made any more progress, report’s the same now as it would’ve been an hour ago.” His voice wasn’t as rough as Prompto had expected. “Shouldn’t hold him up much more, though, or it’s Amicitia that’ll lose it.” The woman nodded, stifling her laugh but not the smile that briefly cracked across her face.

“Of course.” Ignis relaxed at the joke, let his shoulders drop, his hand squeezing Prompto’s shoulder in an attempt at reassurance before he started following Crowe down the hall. “You’ll need to see Gladio; I’ll check in with you later, alright?” Prompto nodded, mentally mapping out the offices, following the memory of Noctis though the hallways. “He’ll be in Noctis’ office, they’re seeing if he’s left any clue as to his whereabouts there.”

Ah. It was hard to think of somewhere Noctis was less likely to have been in months, but at least Prompto knew the way. He nodded, gave his best smile and casual wave before pressing the elevator call button again. “Don’t forget you’ve got my stuff, gonna be mad if you lose my camera.” He laughed, hoping it didn’t sound too forced but, honestly, they were already out of sight down the long hallway and he was just reassuring himself.

—

Monica had a small apartment built into her attic, something she’d put in on a whim and never found much use for, as she confessed to Prompto as she led him up the narrow stairs. It was too warm in the summer, but the bed was soft and the bags he’d packed in that initial rush were already waiting for him. “I’ll let you sleep, okay? Let me know if you need anything.” Monica hesitated, then rubbed Prompto’s back for a moment. “If there are any updates, you’ll know. Don’t worry.” She excused herself with a whispered apology, letting the door click closed behind her with a quiet finality.

Prompto sighed, and dragged the bags with him over to the small couch huddled in the corner of the room. A small lamp and a pile of dog-eared paperbacks did their best to make the room look lived-in, Prompto curled up against the arm of the couch and began rifling through his backpack. Ignis must have packed this bag. It was a strange assortment of things, likely just grabbed off bedside tables and counter tops in an attempt to collect daily necessities and homely comforts. A warmth settled into his chest, the tightness there leaking away as his sifted through the cross-section of his life where it intersected with Noctis. He started pulling out books, adding them to the dusty pile beside him.

He paused, a slim red volume in his hand. A small songbird was embossed onto the leather if the cover, flying over an elaborate cluster of flower. Noctis had sent this back, hadn’t he?

Prompto pushed the bag off his lap, and began thumbing through the pages. The nurse’s address was on the title page— with an exuberant little note congratulating Noctis on his recovery. She’d signed it with a heart and her name, signature all sweeping strokes and bubbly loops. It was all to adorable effect. The fairy tales were familiar old stories, all woodland creatures and handsome princes finding love. “Looks like you!” the same bubbly handwriting noted next to an inset illustration of a dark-haired prince conversing with a small fox-like creature. “Wish he’d chase my nightmares too” Prompto recognized Noctis’ angular scratched writing anywhere.

The notes continued through the margins, letters between the chapters. Jokes and confessions, day to day monotony, it was definitely weeks worth of correspondence. Noctis had mentioned they were still in touch, but Prompto had assumed he meant they texted back and forth; this was something whimsically its own. “Everyone tries, but I still feel like a burden.” Prompto shifted, the tone changed in the letters from page-to-page, but this was the first one where Noctis seemed completely serious. Where all Prompto could envision was down turned steel-blue eyes, and hunched shoulders behind the words.

“I’m sure he could help you?” Luna’s question marks were elaborate affairs, a little extra swirl like she hesitated her way through them. “I could meet you somewhere, take you to see him.”

Prompto frowned a little; he’d only glanced over the other letters, but he was still sure they was no “he” mentioned before. They must have been talking somewhere else. The hole in the narrative made Prompto uncomfortable.

The Noctis in the letters changed the subject on the next page, things continuing on much the same as they always had until the last page. “Monday, 8? He’s excited to meet you.”


	3. howl

_The beach was beautiful, pale sand littered through with blue shells like flower petals. The black dog kept pace, trotting down the edge of the surf with a casual stride. The moon hung low in the sky, too large, too large, falling into the water. The dog barked, a single sharp sound. Noctis looked away from the disaster. They’d reached a long pier, the beach tapering off into rocks just beyond. As good a destination as anything else. He stepped on to the pier, counted the steps to the end. When he turned back, he’d been on a boat all along._   
_Another bark._   
_The moon collapsed in on itself, letting the sun rise in its wake. The waters of the ocean drained back and he was stranded in the desert left behind. A trail of blue flower petals wound into the distance. “Sometimes it’s easier to follow” the letter had read._

——

Prompto’s hands shook as he texted Ignis. Maybe the note was talking about some other Monday, some other eight. It didn’t seem possible, that Noctis really had left on his own. Without a word. Maybe he really did hate this life. Prompto swallowed back the thought like a mouthful of bile.

It felt like he’d only just sent his message before Monica was politely knocking on the door and leaning her head in, “Sorry to bother you, Ignis said something’s come up. Asked me to take you back to the Citadel, soon as possible.”

“Oh, sure.” Prompto nodded, reading the incoming message on his phone out of the corner of his eye. Let’s keep this quiet, shall we? “Iggy’s a real terror if you keep him waiting, huh?”

Monica cracked a smile. “Yeah, but you can’t blame the guy. His uncle started bringing him in to work when he was 6, heard he had ‘im alphabetizing files as soon as he could read.” She propped the door open, and offered a hand out to help Prompto stand.

He shoved Noctis' book back into the backpack and slung it over his shoulder, letting the momentum push him along with Monica's help. Prompto overcompensated finding his balance, let his weight fall against her shoulder in a playful bump. "Can we grab coffee on the way? Noct said the office stuff is shitty." Monica pushed Prompto back, catching him off guard with an extra jut to her hip sending him stumbling a step with a laugh.

—

Monica, it turned out, did not skimp on coffee. He could feel any progress he'd ever made on his diet for the last 5 years turning back thanks to the cup of milk, sugar and whipped cream in his hands. Totally unimportant though. It made him forget the hollow feeling that settled into his chest whenever he let his mind wander too close to the situation actually at hand.

He liked avoiding problems; it's not like that was the worst problem someone could have. It wasn't like Noctis hadn't scolded him about it before.

_"You can't always joke about shit and hope it goes away." Noct had rested his head against Prompto's shoulder._ Prompto couldn't remember what had him so upset at the time. Probably his dad's health again. Prompto tried to reframe the memory into the facsimile of a doctor's waiting room. Hazy, but it worked. _The low hum of a fan, the musty smell of old magazines._

_"Beats thinking of all the ways it could get worse." Prompto shrugged, winced a little when his dismissive-gesture-of-choice was interpreted as shoving Noct off. "I didn't mean-"_ Maybe this had happened at home. _He meant to apologize, softly placating the argument away, but his voice came out strained, a little more sarcastic._ They'd definitely been home. _Noct snorted back, pissed off but unwilling to put the emotion to words. Prompto scooted closer, swung a leg over Noctis' lap to straddle him. "Come on, there's better things to think about, right?"_

_"This is exactly what I'm talking about." Noctis' voice was all lecture, but he was smiling, and his hands were warm where they'd pushed underneath Prompto's shirt to rest on his waist. "Always coming up with distractions instead."_

_"Shut up." Prompto tugged his shirt off, and leaned in for a kiss. He deserved one, dammit, and so did Noct._

It was more then he should probably be reminiscing about while sitting across a desk from Ignis. He could feel a blush creeping over his ears already, so he nodded along, tried to concentrate and work his way back into the conversation.

"It aligns with our established intelligence, although these letters of yours seem to indicate they've had their eye on Noctis for longer then we thought." Ignis paused for a moment to clean his glasses. He looks expectantly at Prompto.

His fingers are drumming on his legs, it's impossible to stay still with his heart thrumming through his veins like it is, "Wait, who are we talking about?"

Ignis sighed, "The Will of Bahamut. A small cult that segmented off from Regis' congregation several years ago. They're fundamentalists, say they aim to 'fulfill the true wishes of the astrals.' Whatever their motivations, they’ve threatened us several times in the past. If Noctis is with them, it’s likely he’s in their main compound, in the south end of Insomnia.” Prompto wasn’t about to ask why the church had ‘intelligence’ in the first place, so he just kept up his nodding, thoughtful hums included. “Gladio feels that direct, immediate action is our best chance. He plans on infiltrating the building tonight.”

Prompto chewed his lip. “I want to help.” The words were quiet, the sort of wishful comment everyone makes in the face of a helpless situation. He played them again in his mind as Ignis gave him a placating nod. Here he was again, curled up in a chair waiting for someone else to put the world back together for him. He rubbed the back of his neck, swallowed down the rising lump in his throat. “I want to help. I mean it.” He clapped his open palm down onto the desk.

Ignis paused in his typing, and looked up at Prompto, blinking. The boy’s face was red, and the hand he’d slammed onto the desk was now clenched into a shaking fist. Everything in his body language spoke of fear, except the steady set of his eyes, currently staring Ignis down. Ignis hated to admit it, but he knew relatively little about Prompto’s personality. The boy was around enough, trailing along at the end of Noct’s coattails since high school. He’d always seemed nothing but a clown, something of a stray puppy Noctis had picked up somewhere and decided to bring home one day. “It’s for the best if you remain in Monica’s care, these sorts of affairs have a tendency to become. Dangerous.” Violent. Clearly illegal by normal standards. How much had Noctis told this boy?

“I know that.” Prompto settled back into his chair, and crossed his arm. “I don’t want to wait this time. Let me do something.”

_This time_ , of course. “We need to keep these sorts of activities incredibly small. Likely, Gladio will go in alone, it’s a matter of deniability. If something goes wrong we can deny responsibility for the actions of a single person.”

“Then send me.” Prompto’s face scrunched, as though disgusted this wasn’t the obvious answer. “I’m nobody, If I get caught or arrested or whatever, no one’ll think I was working for someone.”

“You have no combat training, Gladio would never agree to your involvement.” _  
You aren’t going to believe this._ Ignis shook his head, tapped out the quick text to Gladio. _The boyfriend wants to play hero._

“That’s. Not exactly true.” Prompto’s expression shifted into an uneasy smile, “Lived with this foster family for a while. Dad was a retired army guy, real end-of-the-world nut. Spent a lot of time teaching me to shoot.” The smile took a cocky turn, “Had a real knack for it, still go to the range every weekend.”

“Really.” He glanced at Gladio’s response, glad it was instantaneous. At least he was paying attention.  
I’m tempted to give him a chance.   
He leaned forward, contemplating Prompto a little more closely. Behind the nervous tics, maybe there was something usable there. “Would you mind giving a demonstration?”

_Shooting range, 1 hr_   
_Seriously_   
_It would be stupid to send you alone. He promises he’s capable._   
_Don’t waste our time, Specs_   
_5 minutes, if you disagree we’ll follow the original plan_   
_Fine_

“Well.” Ignis set his phone down on the desk, presented Prompto with his most-diplomatic smile, “Gladio said he’ll consider it. We’ll meet him after dinner. Hungry?”


End file.
